


Colours of the Rainbow

by broken_ankle



Series: Cunning Title to Follow [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aromantic Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Big Brother Michael (Supernatural), Bisexual Gabriel (Supernatural), Coming Out, Gay Lucifer (Supernatural), Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Lesbian Anna Milton, Non-Binary Hannah (Supernatural), Pansexual Balthazar (Supernatural), Supportive Michael (Supernatural), Trans Raphael (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26620234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_ankle/pseuds/broken_ankle
Summary: Michael's siblings come out to him.
Relationships: Balthazar & Michael (Supernatural), Castiel & Michael (Supernatural), Gabriel & Michael (Supernatural), Hannah & Michael (Supernatural), Lucifer & Michael (Supernatural), Michael & Anna Milton, Michael & Raphael (Supernatural)
Series: Cunning Title to Follow [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907785
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	Colours of the Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this series started as something really self-indulgent and somehow became even more self-indulgent while straying completely from what I had planned. I'm not really sure where this came from, but here it is.
> 
> Pronouns used to refer to Hannah change from she/her to ey/em when ey comes out. Warnings for references to two teenagers getting thrown out of their house by their father because they're gay and trans respectively. The POV character to whom people come out is cis and straight. Reader discretion is advised.
> 
> Listen, I'm not straight and nobody has ever come out to me, but I've come out to people in different ways. I've not lived every scene of this in the first person, but in all of them there's a bit of my coming outs, some more and some less. If I've offended someone it wasn't my intention, please tell me and I'll see what I can do to make it better.

"I'm gay, Michael!"

The thing is, Michael knew that. He knew Lucifer is gay, but he has not yet heard it straight from his brother's mouth. He thought that, despite everything, despite Lucifer being his best friend, despite loving him as much as he does, their father's words had influenced him in spite of himself. To his great happiness, he finds that nothing has changed.

Lucifer is gay.

Lucifer is gay, and it changes exactly nothing for Michael. Lucifer is his brother, and Michael has always loved his brother.

He does not exactly plan to say what he says next, and he panics for a moment when Lucifer–Lucifer! His little brother Lucifer, Lucifer who makes fun of him for tearing up on the last page of _Ender's Game_ –begins crying. Has he said the wrong thing? He is not ready to be the supportive parent, he is so not ready.

Then Lucifer pushes a, "Do you mean it?", between a sob and the next, and Michael's heart breaks all over again. He makes his way to his brother's side of the booth, squeezes on the bench beside him and gathers him in his arms.

"Of course I meant it," he murmurs. "You're my brother. I love you, and nothing could change it, not you being yourself, not father's hatred, nothing. I love you."

Lucifer cries harder, pushing his head into the crook of Michael's neck.

They hold each other for a long time, not caring about anything else.

Michael loves his brother, and nothing will ever change that.

* * *

Michael hands his brother a cup of tea and sits beside him on the couch.

Raphael's shoulder are noticeably less tense than when he arrived, but his expression has not changed much from the stoic mask he favours.

Silence hangs over them as they wait for the liquid to cool and as they sip. If Lucifer were here, he would be cracking jokes just to hear something.

"I am sure you have questions," Raphael says at last.

Michael puts his mug down on the coffee table. "They can wait."

"I knew you and Lucifer would have taken me in. That is why I told father."

"You knew how he would react."

Raphael sneers. "Of course I knew. I was there when he yelled at Lucifer to get out of the house."

Michael feels the familiar pang of guilt at the thought. He could not have been there for his little brother, no matter how much he wishes otherwise. He was in another city, in another state, and nobody told him. Nobody told him because they thought he would side with their father.

"But things have changed since Lucifer was thrown out," Raphael continues. "You rebelled, you changed things, and I knew I had a place to go if I ever decided to get thrown out."

Michael does not know what to say. Raphael has always had his own ideas, but he tends to agree to what father said like Michael himself did. The mere fact that he could have even conceived the idea...

"Don't make that face," Raphael says, hard but not unkind. "You raised me, both before and after mother died. Is it really a surprise that I would go where my father figure is?"

"I'm—" Michael cannot finish the sentence. This is... "I am not your father," is the only thing he can say, because what—

Raphael rolls his eyes. "I didn't say you were, I said you are the person who raised me. There is a fundamental difference between the two concepts, mainly that father threw me out because I am trans and you are already planning a custody battle."

"Am I that transparent?" Michael sighs. He cannot deny he has thought about it, particularly since a few hours ago when Raphael said he had been thrown out, but he knows nothing about the process and what it would entail, just that he needs to be able to sustain Raphael economically, and, anyway, he cannot leave their siblings with their father at this point. The twins are just thirteen, they cannot take care of their three youngest brothers alone.

"I know you, Michael," Raphael says. "You would do anything for us."

They stay silent for another long while. Michael is trying to come to terms with what he knows he has to do, and it is much easier than he thought. He loves his siblings. Raphael is right.

"I will call aunt Naomi in the morning."

* * *

"I like sweets."

Michael looks back at Gabriel, who is strangely still and composed seated at the breakfast bar. "Alright?" he says, unable to keep the question from his tone. Everyone knows that Gabriel likes sweets, it is no news, and yet his brother is uncomfortable. He is not even fidgeting.

Gabriel mumbles something that he does not catch.

"I did not catch that."

"I like pizza too," Gabriel says, voice just loud enough to be a whisper.

Michael puts the knife down, lowers the flame on the stove and turns to look at his brother. He still does not know where this is going, but he knows that he should pay attention to Gabriel. His brother may be loud and boisterous under normal circumstances, but beyond it all he just wants company and someone who listens.

Gabriel makes himself as small as he can on the chair, eyes fixed on the floor. "And pizza is not sweet, so I shouldn't like it, but I do. I like sweets and pizza, and I can't choose."

Michael has an inkling about where this is going. He smiles a sad smile, a flash and then gone before his brother can misunderstand its intent. "You can like both sweets and pizza. There is nothing wrong with liking more than a type of food."

Gabriel glances at him from the corner of his eyes. What he sees on his face must reassure him, because he lifts his eyes from the floor and turns on the chair. "So you're not mad that I like both?"

Michael smiles as reassuringly as he can. "Of course not."

Gabriel nods. When it is clear that he will not say anything else, Michael turns back to dinner preparations.

"Michael?" his brother says after a couple of minutes.

"Yes?"

"I'm bisexual."

Michael smiles down onto the onion. "I had gotten that."

The living room is covered in pink, purple and blue streamers by breakfast.

* * *

Anna approaches him with the same hesitancy of a spooked animal.

Michael pretends not to notice her when she stops on the threshold. He continues pretending as she shuffles from foot to foot, not moving from her spot, and then finally takes a steadying breath and makes her way to sit beside him on his bed.

"I like Dean," she says in a rush, like she is afraid Michael will stop her before she can talk. "I really do."

He glances at her out of the corner of his eyes, but she is not looking at him, so he does not look at her. He waits for her to be ready to say what she wants to tell him, even if he suspects. He learnt his lesson.

Anna wrings her hand in her lap like she has not done since she was five. "But I don't—I don't like him _that_ way," she says in a small voice. "I—I—"

Michael turns to her, and she hides her face in his chest. He holds her, not tightly nor loosely, as she takes the kind of long, measured breaths that are used to stave tears off.

"I—I think I'm a lesbian," Anna whispers at last against his shirt.

Michael says nothing, but he tightens his arms around his sister, brushing a hand through her hair.

"I don't even know why I was so nervous to tell you," Anna continues. "I mean, rationally I knew you'd accept me as I am, you did with Raphael and Gabriel, you went against father for Lucifer when he came out, but I—I thought that you'd not be as alright with me as you are with them."

Michael tries to back away to look her in the eyes, but Anna does not let him. He resettles more firmly against her, continuing to stroke her hair. "Anna, would being lesbian change you? Would it make you a bad person?" He feels her shaking her head against his shoulder. "I will always love you, all of you, even if you killed someone. I would be disappointed if you did, but I would love you regardless. Who you are, as long as it does not hurt anyone, is neither good nor bad. Who you are is what you make of it."

"Can you—" Anna takes a deep breath and lifts her head to look at him. Her eyes are shiny with tears she refuses to shed and her hair is in complete disarray, but under the outward appearance there is the hint of the Anna who does not back down from a challenge, the Anna who lets nobody else define her. "Can you not tell the others? I need to think about it."

"It is not my place to tell," Michael says. "You will tell them if you want to."

She nods and gets up from the bed, but she stops on the door and turns back to look at him with a hint of hesitation in her eyes. "Do I have to break up with Dean?" she asks.

"Talk with him," is the only advice Michael can give. "He is a good person, he will understand."

"And if he doesn't you'll have a chat with him?" There is a light of amusement in her eyes, under everything else.

"Chatting implies words," Michael replies. Anna exits his room with a huff of laughter.

* * *

Hannah sits across from him one day that he is struggling with his Master's thesis. She slides a picture towards him.

Michael abandons his laptop immediately. He knows Hanna's expression, he has already seen it on most of his siblings' faces. His thesis can wait, this cannot. He picks the piece of paper up, but he does not recognize the flag. He looks at his sister, a pang of guilt in his chest, and sees her studying him with her overly-serious gaze.

"That is the non-binary flag," she explains unprompted. "I am not a girl, and I would appreciate it if you didn't call me that."

Michael nods carefully. This is different from Raphael, when he was ignorant about other identities to the point of accepting at face-value, but he does not know a lot about non-binary people. "What are your pronouns?" He knows at least enough to ask this.

Hannah seems to relax the smallest fraction. "Ey/em," ey says, looking at him as if expecting a challenge.

Michael smiles. "Well then. I do not know what being non-binary means for you, but I am here if you need anything."

"I know," Hannah says, but it is clear from eir now-relaxed shoulders that ey had anticipated something more, perhaps even a negative reaction. Ey pushes eirself out of the chair. "Keep it," ey says when Michael hands em the picture of the flag. "Reference for the shirt."

He smiles at his sibling's retreating back. He stands up too, closing his laptop, and goes to look for his wallet. He has a white t-shirt and black paint to buy.

His thesis can wait another day.

* * *

"I will need a shirt in the three primary colours," Balthazar says one afternoon, not even lifting his head from the homework Michael forced him to do at the dining table to keep an eye on him.

"What do you need it for?" Michael asks, half of his focus on his brother and half on his umpteenth reading of the preacher scene of _Good Omens_. He is carefully keeping a stoic mask over his internal snickers.

"You made a Pride shirt for everyone else," Balthazar replies. He frowns down at his problem set and scribbles something down.

Michael looks up at him. Yes, he has made everyone else a shirt–well, apart from Castiel–but what flag is red, yellow and blue?

Balthazar looks at him, seeing his confused face, and smirks. "Magenta, yellow and cyan, Mikey. I'm pansexual."

"Those are not the primary colours," he points out. He is fairly sure about it, at least. Art was never his strongest suit.

"Those are the primary colours," Balthazar retorts. "Just ask a printer."

Michael decides to concede the point even if he is not convinced. He has learnt at his expenses that arguing trivial points with his second-youngest brother never ends well for the other party involved. "The living room better survive your announcement to the others, should you choose to tell them," he warns.

Balthazar's grin promises nothing good, but at least he accepts Michael's terms, both spoken and implied.

* * *

"I am a master archer."

Michael is not sure he has heard correctly. "Could you repeat that?" he asks as politely as he can.

Castiel keeps staring at him. "I am a master archer," he repeats.

It makes as much sense as the first time. Michael is relatively sure none of his siblings has ever touched a bow, nevermind becoming a master archer. "I do not know what that means."

At that, Castiel frowns. "It is a pun."

When his brother is not more forthcoming with explanations, Michael turns fully to him. "I do not understand that pun. Could you explain it?"

"I am aromantic asexual," Castiel says. Everything suddenly makes much more sense. "Aromantic is commonly shortened to aro, which is pronounced similarly to arrow, which is used in archery. Asexual is commonly shortened to ace, which also means expert or very skilled. Both of the communities are known for their puns revolving around their respective abbreviation."

Micharl takes a moment, just a moment, to wonder how his youngest brother even got the idea of using a pun for this. The answer is obvious and shares his name with a rifle, though he cannot say which one suggested it. It was probably Sam, though, all things considered.

"Was it not funny?" Castiel asks. He is frowing, but he is not worried. That is good, Michael thinks.

"It would have been if I had known you are aromantic and asexual before you told the joke."

Castiel nods. "Very well. I shall do as you say next time." He leaves without adding anything else.

Michael looks at him go, and then he shakes his head with a small chuckle.

His overly-literal youngest brother just came out with a pun.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Michael reads _Good Omens_. His favourite character is the delivery man.
> 
> I don't think the pun is mine, it's higly likely I've seen it on Tumblr.
> 
> Fun fact: Lucifer and Gabriel call Michael the "token cishet sibling".


End file.
